WASTELAND OF THE FREE
Ödland des Freien
Désert de la Libre
PHOTOS: NUSRAT DURRANI
MUSIC: BRENT ARNOLD
In the 50s and 60s shiny happy suburban white families cavorted around the shimmering silvery blue salt-lake they called the Salton Sea. Like a mirage spilling into the Imperial and Coachella valleys, its manicured periphery was dotted with palm trees and holiday resorts and the sun bounced like crystals off skin and silver boats as beautiful girls glided around in fast convertibles in the summer sun. Rock n roll music wafted in the fragrant breeze and helicopters circled the violet sky keeping safe another slice of the American dream.
And now, the viscous consequences of a manmade ecological disaster have rendered the Salton Sea a rotting hallucination of radioactive water, salt-encrusted buildings, mountains of fish skeletons and haunting stretches of beach. A stinking wind of decayed intentions blows through its abandoned streets. Only the vagabonds, junkies and outsiders inhabit its lonesome diners. Torn and frayed civilians, vigilante ex-marines, forsaken artists and young adventurers live off the grid in this “last free place in America”.
All of them, and the black angel in the ruins of empire proudly daring the rusted heavens to open up and pour down antiseptic rain.